


walk forwards unseeing

by stuffandsundry



Series: right before your eyes [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Unreliable Narrator, im so angry just kiss already, or shut up n talk about your feelings that works too, prequel fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-07 18:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7724776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffandsundry/pseuds/stuffandsundry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, was there any way that things between the two of you could have worked out differently?</p><p>These are the things you knew.</p><p>(These are the things you wish you knew.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the one where they meet

**JACK-**

 

The first time you ever saw Gabriel Reyes is. Uh. Sort of embarrassing?

 

Basic training is over, and you have some free time before you find out where you’ll be assigned. It’s your first break since you enlisted, and you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself. Home is a little too far to travel for you, so you opted to stay on base. But that gets old quick, so you’re taking a bus out for a little field trip today. It’d be nice to explore the nearby city, you think.

 

* * *

_Explore the nearby city_ , your ass. It’s been an hour and you’re lost. Really, really lost and yes, you’ve tried asking people for directions and no, you don’t know how _this place is so confusing, there are so many buildings **why are there so many buildings**_.

 

You curse yourself for deciding that you didn’t need a map.

 

The absolute worst part is you don’t know even know which bus stop to go to for a ride back and everyone you talk to tells you something slightly different and you think they might be hazing you? Some of them have trouble keeping a straight face at your predicament. Eventually you decided that fuck it, you know that the base is a couple miles to the south, so you’ll just walk out of the city and look for a cluster of low buildings. It’ll be late by the time you get back, though. You’re just going to be in a lot of trouble for missing curfew or whatever, but surely it couldn’t be that bad? You ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach saying yes, it is going to be that bad.

 

The bus to the city was about thirty minutes, more or less. So if you want to make it, you have to get back now.

 

You’re jogging down a deserted street when you hear the sounds of a fight. You slow down- should you check it out? You don’t have any illusions about being able to help, of course. Basic training or not, you’re still best described as… somewhat noodle-like. You’re eighteen, alright? You might just be a late bloomer. You've got _some_ muscle definition now, at least.

 

…The fight’s getting worse, you think. People are shouting now.

 

Surely it can’t hurt to just take a look?

 

You cautiously peek your head out into the alley where you think the fight’s happening. It doesn’t look good. Four against one isn’t amazing odds even if the one person- noticeably darker skinned and wearing a beanie of some sort, you think- is built like a truck. But he seemed to be the only one who was trained in any kind of hand-to-hand either, it might be for the best if you just-

 

 **knife**.

 

You move like you’ve been fired from a rifle, nailing the thug who was sneaking up behind Beanie while the other three were distracting him. It was a perfect football tackle, you register distantly. Your folks would’ve been proud of you. Nobody really knows how to react to your entry into the fight, but Beanie recovers faster than the others, grabbing two of the men by their collars and smashing their heads together. They collapse to the floor unconscious, and now that it’s an even fight, the other two seem to have lost their nerve. They run, and you’re left alone in an alleyway with a really pissed off Latino man wearing a black beanie hahaha fantastic you did not think this through.

 

While he’s catching his breath, he looks at you, assessing. He sort of reminds you of the drill instructors at basic, you realize. You shift a little bit uncomfortably, and you have the sudden urge to explain yourself to Beanie.

 

“Uhm. I was just passing through? And- I mean, it looked like you were handling it pretty well, yourself- but that guy had a knife, and I thought that maybe you might get killed or something? And that’s really bad, so. Uh. Nice to meet you, Beanie. The name’s Jack Morrison.”  

 

Okay, that could have gone better, but it also could have gone-

 

“What did you just call me?”

 

Wait. Oh god. Did you just- _oh god you want the earth to just swallow you whole, this is the worst, you’re flushing red, explain nOW YOU **DUMBFUCK**_

 

“Oh, fuck. Shit. I mean, you’re wearing a beanie and I don’t know your name, so I was just- I didn’t just want to call you, like, guy or something, in my head that’s just rude, no wait Beanie is worse, it’s definitely worse _I am so so sorry_ -”

 

You realize somewhat belatedly that he’s bent over wheezing in laughter. Despite everything, you’re sort of insulted. Actually trying to apologize here, dammit. Laughing’s rude. When he finally catches his breath somewhat, he waves a hand in your general direction. “No, no-pfffft, it’s alright. I’ve been called worse than- snrk- _Beanie_.” He straightens up fully and flashes a sharp grin in your direction. “Corporal Gabriel Reyes. Nice to meet you, Morrison.”

 

Oh wow, he’s a corporal? But he doesn’t even look much older than- oh, wait. If he’s a corporal, wouldn’t he probably know how to get back to the base? Nice!

 

“You’re in the military?”

 

He stiffens a tiny bit and narrows his eyes. “…Yeah, you got a problem with that?”

 

“Wh- Oh, no, it’s just that I am too! I only just finished basic, though. This is honestly my first time in this city. And I …might be a little lost?”  You scuff your foot along the concrete, feeling very much like a child. “If you could tell me which bus to take back. That would, uh, bereallyniceofyou.”

 

Corporal Reyes looks at you. “If you’re taking a bus, then what the hell are you doing in the south side of the city? You do realize that this is the shit district, right? That bus doesn’t even stop here.”

 

You resist the urge to bury your face in your hands. You _had_ thought that the houses were a bit more busted up as you were jogging along, but you Ma had raised you to not judge people by their appearances so you’d ignored it. “I didn’t want to _assume_ , or anything. And anyways, I was going to see if I could walk back to base.”

 

“It’s- Morrison, are you not aware that the base is at least ten miles away from here.”

 

You grin abashedly, rubbing the back of your neck with one hand. “Yes? On the bright side, at least I don’t have to walk it through snow like back at the farm?”

 

He shakes his head. “You know what- never mind. You’re a crazy kid, Morrison. We can still make it to the bus stop if we hurry.”

 

He takes off at a brisk pace like he knows that you’ll follow. And you do.

 

By the time you’ve reached the bus stop, the one that you two need to take back is just pulling up, in the first stroke of luck you’ve had all day. The bus trip back is nice. You somehow manage to make small talk with the corporal on the ride and you learn that he’s just here for a few days while the higherups assign him a team. He’s from Los Angeles, and he has two sisters- one younger and one older. He’s really a lot nicer that you were expecting. But as soon as he bids you farewell and turns the corner, you sink your head into your hands and fleetingly contemplate changing your name and leaving the country. 

****

**_Beanie_**. Why, Morrison, why?

 

The corporal must hate you. You can never speak to him again oh god. 

 

On the bright side, you probably never will. He’s just going to be here for a few days, right? You’ll be able to put this in the past, thank god.

 

(you don’t know this, but after Gabriel Reyes waves goodbye to you, he immediately files a request for you to be transferred to his squad.

normally he’d be dismissed out of hand, but he’s a rising star in the military and the omnic conflicts are… not going well. it can’t _hurt_ to humor him.

when asked for a reason why, he only grins and says something about you having balls, for such a weedy looking farmer boy.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, i think ive got enough distance from these that i can start editing and posting. this is the big prequel fic for the brainwashed!jack verse ive been working on! we arent actually going to get to the brainwashed part for a while, tho XD
> 
> eyyy, its errybodys fave, entire paragraphs of exposition in the notes time hahaha fuck
> 
> jack’s family is p big. He’s got an older and younger brother and two younger twin sisters. As a middleish child, nothing was really expected of him. Older brother to inherit the farm, younger girls to be doted on, younger brother to be a little shit, Jack… dont do drugs or something i guess??? his family loves him for sure! It was just that. he was the nice one, the bland one. the spare. there wasn’t anything that made him stand out except for the face that he’s the kind of guy that will bend over backwards to avoid insulting strangers. friends, though. you know youve made it with jack if he starts calling you asshat or fuckface. although he’s super passive about most things, there are certain things you won’t ever change his mind on.
> 
> gabe’s the guy with something to prove, oth the other hand. young gabe is 100% the shounen action hero of my dreams lmao. like jacks just “uh sure idk that sounds neat, thank you please have a nice day” while gabes like “IM GONNA PROTECT PEOPLE SO GOOD, YOU FUCKS, WATCH ME” I feel like, for all the shit that went down at the fall of Overwatch, he was the one who really really wanted to be a hero. which is another reason that him being handed blackwatch hurt, i suppose.
> 
> i know that the wiki says that Jack n Gabe became friends through the SEP, but fuck it, at this point I’m gonna call this thing a pick n choose AU, especially because theres so much canon and contradicting canon or canon thats just a lil silly. I can’t fact-check every single thing i write, it just stresses me out super bad and then i just lie down on my bed and try to will myself out of existence. Apply phleblotium liberally, i say. :)


	2. the one where they fight robots

**JACK-**

 

You think somewhat hysterically that, in thirty years or so, you’ll look back at this memory fondly. Thirty-years-older-you can _go fuck himself_.

 

Omnics are so **big**.

 

Sure, you know that the typical Bastion is a little more than seven feet tall. You pay attention in the briefings, dammit! But there’s a difference between seeing one on a screen and being pointed at one and being told to take it down.

 

Your team has practiced for this. It’s what they were put together to do. Everyone's got their role, everyone know what to do. They move like a well-oiled machine, for all that they've been working together for less than a year. But you- you’re the baby of the team. You’re not sure why you were chosen, you always sort of assumed you’d go into some random infantry group or something, not– whatever this is. And everyone else is so confident and they know what to do and then there’s _you_ , confused and really nervous. You’re the weak point of this group and you're pretty sure that everyone knows it.

 

You don’t want to let anyone down. You’re desperately scared that you will.

 

Maybe that’s why you’ve been paired together with Reyes. You didn’t know when you first met him, but Gabriel Reyes is something of a golden boy within the armed forces. A record breaker in almost all aspects, everybody knows that he’s being groomed for a really important position somewhere. Even your dead weight couldn’t drag him down, you think miserably.

 

“Morrison, get up here already!” A hissed voice coming from the floor above you snaps you out of your self-deprecation party. You scramble to obey, joining Reyes besides the window. He barely spares you a glance before focusing back on the objective that you’re supposed to take. It’s not looking good. It’s guarded by three Bastions, and considering you were told that there would only be one or two, you think that the team might be in trouble.

 

Reyes is pissed. “Who the hell provided us the intel? What the fuck, we don’t have the munitions to take down _three_ Bastions!”

 

“Not technically true, sir.” The comms crackles slightly. “We might still be able to complete the mission.”

 

“How? And don’t give me any crap about how it’s risky or whatever. It’s _my_ job to judge that, not yours.”

 

“If we set two- no, make it three to be safe- three pulse bombs in that apartment building at the northwest corner of King and Market, it’ll collapse on top of two of the Bastions. It’ll buy us enough time to handle the other one.”

 

Reyes is silent. “I know the apartment you’re talking about. It’s behind the Bastions, we can’t get to it.”

 

“There’s enough rubble in that area to hide behind. Bastion units don’t have multiple cameras or infrared vision, so someone fast and quiet will be able to make it. But whoever it is will have to turn off comms, though. We can't risk them picking up radio chatter.”

 

“It’s suicide, is what it is. I won’t make any member of this team do th-”

 

“I’ll do it.” His head whips around, surprised. Oh. You were the one that spoke up.

 

“Morrison, have you not been listening? It’s a death sentence!”

 

At the same time, you hear over the radio, “If you think you can do it, then be my guest.”

 

Reyes opens his mouth to argue with the both of you, so you hastily speak first. “Look- Corporal. Corporal Reyes. Let me do this. I can do this, you’ve seen me run. I’m one of the better sprinters on this team, and I’ve got a good chance of getting in and out of there before they even notice a thing.” He’s wavering, you can tell. “Please, Corporal?”

 

He leans back against the wall and sighs. “Fine, then. But I’ll come with you.”

 

What? “Corporal, you’re needed-”

 

“No buts.” He says with narrowed eyes. “The pulse bombs are heavy. You can’t carry all three by yourself.”

 

You deflate a little bit and nod your assent. Of course. He thinks you’re going to mess it up.

_Useless_.

 

* * *

 

You’re halfway there when everything goes wrong. You don’t know what exactly alerts them- you, probably- but two of the Bastions swivel to face the piece of rubble you two are hiding behind.

 

Your blood runs cold, and several things happen, cascading into each other:

 

Reyes barks out “Morrison, get-”

 

You can’t hear the rest over the sound of your own heartbeat.

 

The Bastions begin to reconfigure into turret mode.

 

Reyes snarls and brings his gun up, trying to hit them in the middle of the change.

 

You pick up a pulse bomb and run towards the Bastions.

 

One of the Bastions is clearly compromised. Reyes must have hit his mark.

 

The one you’re running towards fires wildly. It isn’t programmed to deal with someone running towards it. There’s a stinging line of pain on your left arm. _Not important._

 

You’ve reached it. Even bigger up close. Can’t let that stop you.

 

In one smooth motion, you slide between the Bastion’s legs and attach the bomb to its underside, priming it as you go.

 

Reyes yells out “DUCK AND COVER!”

 

He’s watching you. Good. You don’t have the breath to yell.

 

5

Make it to cover, Morrison.

 

4

 

The Bastion swivels, finding you again.

 

3

 

You dive into an alleyway. Peek out again in morbid curiosity.

 

2

 

All three of them are converging on your location. You close your eyes.

 

1

 

A wave of **force** shatters the world around you. You slam through the wall on the other side of the alley and stifle a scream. You’ve broken a rib, you think. It hurts to breathe.

 

Shakily, you thumb communications back on. Is everybody…?

 

“What the _fuck_ , that was-”

 

“Coolest thing I ever saw, holy-”

 

“-we almost died, who’s-”

 

“-all three down? Someone check-”

 

“Morrison! Morrison, can you hear me?”

 

You blink. That last one didn’t sound like the others.

 

The reason for that becomes clear. Reyes dashes into the alley, still calling out for you. You weakly flop your hand about in the air, and he sees you.

 

“Christ, Morrison, is this becoming a regular thing? You running headfirst into danger without a single warning to the rest of us?”

 

You blink, what on earth is he-

 

 

> Four against one isn’t amazing odds even if the one person- noticeably darker skinned and wearing a beanie of some sort, you think- is built like a truck. But he seemed to be the only one who was trained in any kind of hand-to-hand either, it might be for the best if you just-
> 
> **knife**.
> 
> You move like you’ve been fired from a rifle, nailing the thug who was sneaking up behind Beanie while the other three were distracting him.

 

Oh. Huh, there does seem to be a pattern forming here, doesn’t there.

 

Your lips twitch into a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Corporal. Looks like I really am kind of a problem for you, aren't I?”

 

He looks at you in utter bewilderment. “What, did the blast knock something loose in your head? I’m not the guy who just destroyed one Bastion and heavily damaged two others.” He looks at you, crumpled against the wall, and his gaze softens. Ever so gently, he adjusts your position so that it’s easier for him to check your injuries. “You don’t have to prove anything to us. We’re your team, Morrison. We’ve got your back, no matter what. Yeah, you’re the youngest member here, and that means that you think you've got to make waves. But I chose you for my squad because I thought you had potential. Don’t go wasting it like this.”

 

He taps you lightly on the forehead. “If you’re a burden, then what are we, dogshit? Don’t worry so much. You did good, Morrison. But try not to give your commanding officer such a heart attack next time, alright? You’re going to drive me into an early grave.”

 

You laugh, a little breathily, alongside him.

 

Everything hurts, and there’s something digging into your back. But you’ve never been so happy before.

_You did good, Morrison._

 

You grin so hard that it hurts. You did, didn’t you?

 

(you don’t know this but

Reyes heart was beating fast as yours as you ran

not just in fear because he doesn’t want to have your death on his hands

but excitement too

he thinks

holy shit, that kid is crazy.

i can work with that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve come to the realization that the guy im drawing a bunch personality traits for gabe is jim kirk from the new star trek movies. He has something to prove, is basically a genius, doesn’t take shit from anybody, but cares so much about his job and what it means. An idealist under the surface cynicism, too.
> 
> young jack, on the other hand, has a lot in common with tracer. his mortality is the last thing on his mind, and he keeps on running right into the face of danger jesus morrison chill
> 
> speaking of tracer, i imagine that this design of pulse bomb is an verry early one. id say they’re about the size of a laptop or something, not so much like what she carries around decades later.


	3. the one where gabe is really excited

There’s banging on your door, rousing you from your sleep.

 

“Jack! Hey, Jack, open the fucking door already, man! I know you’re in there!”

 

Fucking hell. Of course it’s Gabe. It’s always Gabe, you aren’t even sure why you’re surprised anymore.

 

If you’re honest with yourself, you don’t know how you got to be such friends with your commanding officer. It just… sort of happened? Sharing food at camps, telling each other stupid stories of childhood. Even as other members of the team have gotten transferred or injured, you’ve always been a constant at Gabe’s side. You’re grateful for that. You can’t really imagine serving under anyone else now.

 

Kinda wish he wasn’t such an early bird though.

 

You fumble your way off of the cot and make it to the door. “Gabe, what the fuck?” You yawn as you unlock the door. BANG! It slams open and barely misses hitting you in the face. Wow, you’re wide awake now. “Gabe, what the _fuck_.”

 

“Oops, sorry dude,” he says completely unapologetically with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Anyways, that’s not important. I need you to check your mail right now.”

 

“My mail? What, aren’t you going to kiss me good morning first?”

 

“Oh my god, would you stop mouthing off and just fucking do it?”

 

“Fine, fine.” You grumble. You know from experience that when he’s like this, he’s not going to let it -whatever it is- go until you give in. Where’d you put your shitty old laptop?

 

Bleh, there it is. You boot up the old clunker with a yawn- we’ve been over this, Gabe, I’m not throwing it out as long as it still works- and log into your email. Nothing immediately catches your eye. Spam, spam, news, spam- wait, what’s the SEP-

 

Oh.

_Oh._

 

“Well?” Fucking hell, Gabe’s leg is vibrating like a jackhammer. Combined with the manic grin still on his face and the fact that he’s still wearing body armor, the overall effect is deranged lunacy, cripes.

 

“What the _fuck_ is this Captain America bullshit doing in my inbox?” You say slowly. You nearly drop your laptop as Gabe tackles you and tries to give you a noogie. “Wh- Gaaabe, get off!”

 

“Hahaha, I knew it Morrison, I fucking knew that you’d get picked too. It’s gonna be great, holy shit dude!”

 

You blink a few times. Huh. That explains why he was so excited, you guess? “So you’ve been chosen too?”

 

“Tch, I knew I didn’t like you for your brains, idiot. Of fucking course I was chosen, why do you think that I’m here at ass o'clock in the morning?” He scooches closer to you on the bed. “So, you coming with?”

 

…

 

Gabe’s smile fades when you don’t respond right away. “Hey, Jack. Jack? You there, farmerboy?”

_How do you tell him-_

 

Something like this would make you a weapon for the military to keep. And you sort of instinctually balk at the idea. For some reason, you’d always imagined that after the war, you’d go back to the farm and do- something, you guess. And yeah, it’s been a few years and you think you’re not bad at this military thing and you and Gabe make a great team, if you're going to be honest, but

 

It’s so sudden. You don’t want to make a choice that’ll decide the course of your life in your underwear.

 

But even as you’re thinking this- what do you have to go back for anyways?

 

Yes, alright, your family. You love them, they're great. But they don't really _need_ you, back at the farm. You were always sort of a spare, one of the Morrison kids. Part of a set, and not a very memorable piece besides. And if you don't go back to work on the farm, what else can you do? Go to college after the war's end, get a nine-to-five job? You didn’t go to college, you don’t want to be a farmer.

 

So what do you really want?

 

You want-

 

You want-

 

You want to stay with Gabe.

 

It sounds stupid when you put it like that, but shut up. It’s true. You want to follow Gabe and watch his back and crack stupid jokes with him and just. _Be there,_ with him. And Gabe wants to go into the SEP. To be honest, you’ve never seen him so excited.

 

Put this way, it’s such a simple decision.

 

Alright then. It’s settled.

 

You blink at Gabe, who’s eyes are creased with worry and give him the most theatrical yawn you can manage. “Huh? What did you say? M’still kinda sleepy, to be honest. Of course I’m coming with you. Enhancement program, huh. Then I can’t wait to finally be the taller one.”

 

His mouth twitches. “You ass. I can’t believe I was almost worried about you. Also, you can be taller than me in your dreams, farmerboy. _In your dreams._ ”

 

Your smile turns more genuine as you respond to his taunt. Yeah. Yeah, this is the right choice.

 

(you don’t know this but

when you didnt reply to him with equal enthusiasm, gabes heart dropped

as much as he has been a constant for you these past few years

you have been for him too

he hadnt even considered that he might enter the program without you.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love these nerds so much XD


	4. the one where jack is not

The room that all the participants of the Soldier Enhancement Program are waiting in is about the size of your old high school gym. You'd imagine that the acoustics would be about the same, too, every cough or whisper echoed throughout the room. You'd imagine, but it's dead silent right now. Everyone is waiting for the program scientists to begin the process. It’s a bit nerve-wracking, to be standing here. There aren’t many people in the room, but everyone who is here looks awfully serious and still in parade rest. You are hit by a sudden contrary need to scratch your nose.

 

Instead, you take a peek to your left. Gabe’s standing there, as solemn as the rest. You don’t let that fool you, though. He’s probably _still_ giddy with excitement, even though it's been weeks since you both received the invitation.

 

If you’re going to be honest, you sort of regret this decision? No, that’s not true. You don’t regret choosing to stay with Gabe, but you really regret not trying harder to talk him out of it. This whole thing seems shady as hell. Oh, _sure_ it’s an official- if somewhat clandestine- government program. But you don’t buy their promises that you’ll be able to just pack up and leave if you don’t make the cut.

 

There sure were a lot of very well-armed soldiers outside for such an isolated laboratory facility. Yeah, you get that there are legit, totally reasonable reasons for their presence. Still.

 

You wonder what the consequences for failing out of the program will be.

 

You hope you won’t find out.

 

And, God, Gabe’s lapping it all up. It’s seriously a topsy-turvy situation. Usually, you’re the one who has to be held back before you go charging headlong into danger. Although your instincts are good, you’re not a fantastic tactician or strategist or whatever it is you call it. You know there’s something wrong here but you can’t quite say what and you can’t fix it either. So instead, you swallow up your fears and stand straight. You’re here to watch Gabe’s back. That’s all.

 

A group of people in labcoats walk in. All eyes focus on them as one. You tense, like you’re at the starting line of a race. _This is it._

 

* * *

 

You rub your arm. It stings a little bit, but no more so than any flu shots you’ve ever received. “That it?” you ask the doctor. You were expecting more weird drugs, or gene therapy, or hells, surgery.

 

“Yes. ” Voice slightly muffled by her protective gear, she starts to clean her instruments. “For today, at least. You’ll be coming back in tomorrow for more, naturally.”

 

“Great.” you mutter under your breath. Hey, it’s not like you’re _disappointed_ it was over so soon. You like all your organs just where they are, thank you ma'am.

 

You hop off the operating table and head out. Gabe hasn’t gone yet- they’re going through everyone alphabetically by last name and there are still a few people between the two of you. You can’t see him, and you don’t know how long you’ll have to wait to catch him coming out. You two have already agreed to meet back at the room provided, though. So you’ll take the time to explore, have a look around.

 

You tell yourself firmly that you aren’t looking for potential escape routes.

 

* * *

 

It’s hardly been an hour when the first symptoms show up. It’s nothing big, really. Just some dizziness. You ignore it- hell, you aren’t even sure it’s a symptom. Might just be the time difference catching up to you. You hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep recently.

 

The muscle tremors, though, are harder to explain away. Fuck. You start to make your way back to the room you’re sharing with Gabe. You’d like to say you walk briskly but casually, but nah. You run. Keeping appearances up isn’t worth the risk of passing out in a hallway.

 

The pain creeps up on you so quietly that by the time you register that you’re in agony you can’t quite remember how it got there. It hurts, it hurts so much, but you could swear it wasn’t that bad a moment ago. You hit the wall next to the doorknob by accident and you have to bite back a scream. The slightest touch burns.  

 

You fumble your way into the shitty dorm room you’ve been provided, fingers clumsy and cold. Breathing comes in short, sharp gasps, and it’s hard to get oxygen like you’ve been running all day. Your vision is going blurry, you think. Or it’s getting sharper. The singing in your veins is a bit distracting, and it’s making it hard to tell the difference. You find a bunk with your hands. Is it yours? You don’t care. The bed were soft in your memory- you’d stopped by with Gabe to check them out before they had started everything up. But somehow it all feels like sandpaper, wrapping around you. Too much too much everything is too much. You squeeze your eyes shut.

 

Can’t breathe. Can’t see. Can’t move. You focus on the sparkling dots on the backs of your eyelids.

 

You aren’t asleep or coherent, but in some sort of hazy middle ground. Time passes.

 

You snap out of your pain-induced haze when you register that the side of the bunk has dipped down a bit. Someone- who? You can’t muster the energy to roll over to face the door or open your eyes. It feels like your muscles are unraveled yarn and your bones charcoal. If you move, you might collapse into dust and wool.

 

“You awake, Jack?”

 

Oh. S'just Gabe. You try to say hi or something to him, but all that comes out is a strained wheeze.

 

“Heh. Yeah, same here.”

 

Clearly not. Only one of you two here is capable of coherent speech, and it sure isn’t you. You try to breathe derisively in his direction.

 

You don’t know whether he notices or not. Instead of replying, he lies down next to you so close that you can feel his heartbeat. You hiss and flinch away from the contact, and he mutters an apology. You won’t admit it, but it’s oddly comforting to be next to him.

 

Your breathing evens out, and you know no more.

 

(you don’t know this but

as Gabe watches as your muscles stop trembling and you sink slowly into sleep

hes struck by the sudden thought that he sort of wants to run his hand through your hair

and in typical gabe fashion he shoots back at himself

_what are you, his boyfriend?_

**...**

**...**

Fuck _. Fuck. **Fuck**._

he doesnt get any sleep that night, but not because of pain.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> congratulations gabe. you played yourself.
> 
> also jack you fuckin idiot, of course you got hit with it bad. running is only gonna circulate that shit through your body faster, dude.
> 
> getting into the good stuff, folks. thank you for staying with me.


	5. the one where they form voltr- overwatch

You hear Gabe mutter under his breath.

 

“Oh, no pressure Reyes. You’ve only been chosen to lead the first global strike force in modern history, there’s no _fucking_ pressure on you to make a good impression or anything, shit.”

 

You glance over. To anyone else, he’d just look a bit angrier than usual, but you know him better than you know yourself. He’s nervous about meeting the rest of the team that’s been assembled. Hell, you would be in his place too. It’s been several years since the war against the Omnics first started and you can feel it. Humanity is slowly losing. Nobody has dared to say it out loud, but you all know that the Overwatch Strike Force is humanity’s last ditch effort-

 

_and they chose Gabe to lead it.  
_

The eyes of the world are upon him. Personally, you think that Gabe doesn’t have anything to be worried about. He’ll do fine. After all, hasn't he been making waves in the US already? Most everyone knows Gabriel Reyes, back home- the strategist, the leader. Hope. But on the other hand, he wouldn’t be Gabe if he wasn’t fretting, so you don’t tell him to stop. Instead, you bump your shoulder into his and smile. “What’re you thinking about, Gabe?”

 

He looks up, startled for a second. Realization dawns on his face and he grins. “Heard that, did you? You’d think I’d get used to those enhanced senses after two whole years, man.”

 

“Nah, that'll never happen. The day you do is the day that you stop snapping all of your toothbrushes in half in the morning, which is going to be never,” you disagree with a fond smile. “And we’ll keep running out of toothbrushes even though we got the value pack a week ago- one week, Gabe- and you’ll bug me to go buy new ones at like seven in the morning and I’ll accidentally get the wrong brand because that’s a thing, apparently, and then you won’t let me forget about it for the next two months and-”

 

“Okay. Hold up. That was one time, Jack. _One_ fucking time. Also, fuck you, I have to deal with shitty everything on missions, I’m getting myself good toiletries when I can, dammit. It’s the little things.”

 

“It’s just a toothbrush, Gabe. There’s no real difference between them all, jeez.”

 

“First off, you can meet me in the fucking pit, farmboy. And second-” Gabe continues to go off about the relative merits of different toothbrushes, which somehow meanders into a lecture about the history of toothbrushes and why they can’t be made out of plastic anymore. Or something like that. You’re listening with only half your focus- most of your attention is on watching Gabe talk and gently nudging the conversation anywhere other than the Overwatch Strike Team, or the war. Where does he even get this information from? God, he’s such a dork. You remember your first impressions of him as this intimidating badass, and you want to laugh at your past self. You've got a stupidly fond smile plastered across your face and you can't bring yourself to care that everyone can see it.

 

You two reach the series of rooms where the temporary headquarters have been set up. At the sight of it, Gabe loses the smile that you’ve been gently teasing out of him on the way here. You were told that you would meet the other members of the team in the conference room at the far end of the hall. The journey there is silent, and feels longer than it should be.

 

There’s only one person in the room- a woman, with long black hair. Her feet are up on the conference table, and she’s leaning back  in her chair looking at the ceiling. You don’t remember who she is- they had provided both of you with one set of dossiers, but you'd let Gabe have them for the majority of the time. She's a sniper, you think? A- something, from the Middle East. She glances over at the soft click of the door opening, and grins like a shark. “Hello, boys. You here for this trainwreck?”

 

“Trainwreck’s a harsh word for it, when we’ve hardly even assembled the team,” counters Gabe. He looks at the woman consideringly. “You don’t think the Overwatch strike force will be able to turn the tide?”

 

She shrugs. “Who knows. Me, I don't care that much. I’m just here because anything is better than waiting around back home for the Omnics to kill us all.”

 

You tilt your head in confusion. “You _must_ be either military or some sort of expert in your field to have been chosen for the team, though. I wouldn’t call that just waiting around for the Omnics to kill you.”

 

She snorts, and takes her feet off of the table. Leaning forwards, she points at you for emphasis. “I can take an Omnic down with one bullet. I'm the best fucking sniper in the world, blondie. But even if I could shoot a hundred Omnics down with one bullet I still won’t even make a fucking dent in their forces. It’ll take them maybe a month to rebuild that number. Two, maybe. And that’s it. Nothing changes. It's just a stalemate that's grinding humanity down more and more by the day. And every day-"

 

Her voice thickens in furious grief. "Every goddamn day, we lose more good people, people who shouldn't have been in the line of fire, who should have been able to live with their families and laugh with their kids and it's not-" Her voice sounds like it wants to crack, but she holds it back by force of will. She continues after a beat of silence, as if her outburst hadn't happened. "Face it, humanity’s lost this one. But like hell if I’m not going to go down swinging.”

 

“We haven’t lost yet. Humanity only loses the war if it gives up on fighting.” Your voice is fierce and emotional, and you desperately need her to know that it'll all be fine in the end, that the war isn't over but you can't quite find the right words. Your gaze slides over to Gabe, and he meets your eyes, briefly. He nods his agreement and takes up the thread of the conversation with practiced ease. “It’s far to early to capitulate. You’re talking about a war of attrition? Yeah, we would lose that. I’ll admit, we _are_ losing that. But if we take the fight to them- destroy the Omniums themselves- then it’ll make a difference. I know that’s what we’ve been trying to do for the past few years- but every time, there’s something, just one little thing that just falls short. Equipment. Intel. Power. Precision. Teamwork. We’ve come so close so many times, and this time- with this team, we aren’t going to have any of those problems. I'll make sure of that.”

 

Gabe walks up to the woman whose entire attention is focused on his words. His voice is low, and you recognize it as the one he uses for pep talks, the one that works because people can feel the sheer weight of his own belief behind it. “We’re the best of the best. Working together, we can end it so that nobody else has to go through the loss of a loved one. Are you with me?”

 

She and Gabe stare at each other, intensely. You’re struck by the sudden absurd thought that maybe they’re having a telepathic battle of wills. You try your best to project your trust in Gabe’s abilities- in Overwatch- at her.

 

It’s the woman who looks away, finally.

 

“I’ve got a kid back home, you know.” She says, voice soft. “If you think there’s a chance- that there’s _any fucking chance_ that you can turn this war around- then you better take it. I don't care if it's a one in a thousand shot, you take it. Or I’ll gun you down where you stand.”

 

Gabe nods, solemn. “I can do that.” Wryly, he adds, “but it won’t hurt my chances to have the best fucking sniper in the world on my team.”

 

She smiles, and it somehow reminds you of a rifle fired in the dark. “Then you’ve got her. Ana Amari, of the Egyptian Army. It’ll be a pleasure to work with you.”

 

Gabe reaches out a hand. “Gabriel Reyes. US military. This is Jack Morrison, my second.”

 

She opens her mouth, as if to say something more, but then-

 

“GOOD MORNING, FRIENDS! A FINE DAY IT IS TO FIGHT FOR THE FUTURE!”

 

All three of you whirl around as an honest-to-god giant enters the room. Look, if you and Gabe got Captain America’d then this guy is the Hulk. A really jovial, German-sounding Hulk. His biceps are the size of your head- no, bigger. _Wow_.

 

“Reinhardt, for th’ love of God. Wouldya pipe down?” The source of the new voice is coming from lower than Reinhardt’s- that’s his name, you guess- face. You look down.

 

You keep looking down.

 

Further. And you see-

 

“Call me a dwarf and I’ll nail yer gun t’ yer knees, boy.”

 

… Well, now that he’s said it, you can’t exactly think of anything else. He’s barely up to your ribcage, is built like a brick shit-house, and has the most luxurious beard you’ve ever seen. He’s an honest-to-god Tolkien dwarf. You somehow manage to say, “Hi, I’m Jack Morrison. And you are…?”

 

“Torbjörn Lindholm, engineer. And th' big lug over there is Reinhardt, Reinhardt Wilhelm. Who’s in charge of this circus?” He demands.

 

“Uh, Gabe- I mean, Commander Reyes. Gabriel Reyes, over there.” You point over to where Gabe is talking to- being talked at, more like- Reinhardt, with a slightly shellshocked expression. Amari looks just as confused, but as a spectator, she's also suppressing her hilarity with extreme difficulty.

 

Lindholm snorts. “Sure doesn’t look like much. Let’s get this over with, I need t'supervise the setup of the labs or they’ll do it all wrong.” He clomps over noisily to a seat. The rest of you take it as a cue to do the same.

 

Gabe opens his mouth. Hesitates for a beat. You know he’s never considered himself to be good with group speaking. One on one? Sure. But he's always stepped back and let you handle the bulk of any speaking in front of crowds. And right here- he can't do that, and he also can’t afford to make a bad impression on the rest of the command team either.

 

You can’t help him, you can’t take part of the burden off of him when he can’t find the right words fast enough, he has to stand alone here or nobody will ever take him seriously as a leader. He’s right there. If you stretched out you could touch him. _Unreachable_.

 

The thought burns you inside.

 

Well. If you can’t help him speak, you’ll settle for the next best thing. A quirk of the mouth that's almost a smile, a silent barely-there nod. You try to convey that even if you can’t be there, you always have, and always will be there to watch his back.

 

You think it works. He draws up that steely determination you admire so much in him and plows forwards. Everyone else in the room is rapt with attention, and when he’s done outlining his plans for Overwatch everyone has questions and suggestions and as the meeting turns into an actual group effort, he relaxes ever so slightly.

 

It’s going to work, you think to yourself. With Gabe leading Overwatch, there’s no way that it’ll fail.

 

(you don’t know this but

he looks at you in that moment, eyes warm as summer

and he realizes just how much you trust him

a stray thought crosses his mind

if he asked you to tear your heart out with your bare hands, would you?

he would. if you asked, he would.

_god_ , hes in so fucking deep)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you two are so married. youre so fucking married. i bet you they got a flat offbase together because that makes sense, you know, they get along well, they'll b great roomies. you can bet your ass that gabe was doing some grade a pining over the past two years, but it wasnt super plot relevant so! perhaps i shall write it later. jack is super oblivious, he still hasnt figured out that maybe best friends arent even this close. 
> 
> gabe is also that guy who knows a bunch of obscure things and is just waiting to regale everyone with information, Morrison stop laughing. if he wasnt in the military, id always thought that he’d be the type to be a teacher, or a librarian. like, weirdly good with younger people, in that hes a massive grouch to them but gentle and understanding too, and he cant understand why they all attach themselves to him lol. i had an ap lit like that, you either thought she was the coolest fuckin teacher u ever had or you were terrified of her. come to think of it, she did have a lowkey rivalry with the ap lang teacher next door- the blonde, extremely preschool teacher like but also very competent ap lang teacher.... wait.
> 
> for ana! while i believe that she always, always wants the best for fareeha, that doesn’t mean she hasnt gotten tired, that she hasnt doubted herself before. esp because i headcanon that she was actually rather attached to whoever fareehas dad was, and that he died shortly before overwatch was formed. this is just a really bad time for her. gabes and jacks fucking ridiculously unshakeable optimism helps, in the long run.
> 
> i was thinking about why the specific founders were chosen. Like, toblerone is obviously for equipment, and ive always headcanoned Liao as the intel guy. Ana and Reinhardt are a lil harder, but I think precision and power suit them respectively. So that leaves Gabe n Jack. originally i was thinkin strategy and courage, but that was was too cheesy even for me. and then i realized that they're the best team. of course, both of them are needed for teamwork XD


	6. the one where ana tries her best

The new recruits are staring at you, you note idly. But it’s not _too_ distracting, so you just ignore them. They’ll learn not to be too overawed by the prescence of any of the Overwatch founders eventually. There’s always one of you hanging around somewhere on the base,even if the rest are on missions. Like now- as far as you know, Rein and Torb are off in Moscow, and Ana and Gabe are due back today from Arequipa and Detroit, respectively. Liao’s… somewhere. You’ve never managed to keep track of their whereabouts, no matter how hard you’ve tried. They're a god damn stray cat.

 

The drill instructor suddenly barks out a command, and the recruits scramble to obey. It’s just another day at base, and the muted chaos is a perfect soundtrack for you to relax, enjoy your lunch and read a few reports to. You’re technically not supposed to bring food into the gym, but eh. Nobody’s going to try to strike up a conversation here, and you hate working in the office. The one that you share with Gabe somehow strikes you as terribly self important, and you spend as little time there as possible. You engross yourself in your sandwich and the words on the screen. Somebody approaches the bench in the training gym, you're sitting on. Ana, you think. You grunt a greeting around the mouthful of ham and cheese, but you don't look up and she doesn't reply. You two sit there like that for a while.

 

You finish one report and open another. The recruits are doing laps now.

 

“You know,” Ana says from her seat beside you. “You should tell him.”

 

You’re jolted from your thoughts. Tell? Who? What? “Bwuh?”

 

She snorts at your intelligent response. “Nice, Jack. Real nice. You know what I’m talking about.”

 

No? You don’t?

 

“I’ve seen the way you look at Gabe. You’re painfully obvious.”

 

Gabe? The way you-

_She means you’re in love with him, idiot,_ your brain finally concludes. The voice in your head, the one that tells you when you're being a complete doofus, reminds you of Gabe. In the context of this conversation, it's rather weird.

 

Your first instinct is to deny everything. Wh- Gabe? That’s not- You don’t. What. _What_?

 

If she notices your mild internal meltdown, she ignores it. “Mmm. Like he hung the moon and stars in the sky. You really should tell him that you like him, Jack. It isn’t as if you have forever. Any of us could die next week.”

 

She looks sad as she talks. You are reminded, abruptly, of the way that she… didn’t _quite_ seem to care about whether she lived or died back when you’d first met her. Her only goal was to make sure that Fareeha was happy, that Fareeha was safe. Oh, it hadn’t gotten in the way of results, and the situation back then was dire enough that nobody cared as long as her work were impeccable. It had taken a long time, and a concerted campaign from the rest of the strike team and Fareeha for her smile to stop being so sharp it cut to the bone.

 

Even now, she sometimes looks wistful when her daughter’s back is turned.

 

“Did you?” you blurt out.

 

She smiles bitterly. “Yeah. I did. And you know what? Even if I’d known how it would end, I still wouldn’t have kept it to myself. _He was worth it_. Hell, my only regret is not telling him sooner. But what we had, even though it was cut short, is something that I will always treasure. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that I did. But hey- that’s why I’m telling you this, hm?” A sigh. “Look, it’s not the end of the world if you don’t. I promise that I won’t pressure you into it or anything. But love is something precious, Jack. It would be a pity for you to let it just pass you by.”

 

You don’t register anything she says beyond this, because you’re far too occupied turning thoughts over in your head. Are you in love with Gabe?

 

…You don’t know, you’ve never been in love before. You’ve seen people that were- nice to look at, you guess? And people that you like, that are your friends. You’ve never felt like you’re in love with Gabe before. What you have with him- what ever it is- isn’t anything like the movies or books describe it.

 

But you think of the easy way that you lean against him whenever you two are sitting down, the way that you can practically identify him by smell or touch alone, the way that just being around him unwinds something inside you that’s been tightly twisted up your whole life. Oh.

 

Shit.

 

You think she might be right.

 

Ana sees the dawning realization on your face and chuckles. “See, when have I ever led you wrong? Never, that’s when. Gonna take the rest of my advice, too?”

 

You chose your words carefully. “Dunno.”

 

You plow onwards, before she can say anything. You’re stumbling around you words even more so than you do on a regular basis, spilling all your thoughts out in hopes that there’s something in the mess that makes sense. “I mean- I don’t- Gabe’s my best friend, Ana. No offense to you, of course! You’re great, fantastic, I love you and Fareeha. You’re adorable- I mean, she’s adorable, fuck. Shit. Anyways! If I make it weird or something- between me and Gabe- I don’t- I don’t know what I would do? And…”

 

Your voice goes quieter, more solemn. “And anyways, if I- die, or something. It’d suck for him to, y'know, have to remember me in that context. Just thinking about what could have been. And that’s if he returns these feelings anyways. What if I’m being- I don’t know- presumptuous? What if he doesn’t feel the same way, and I tell him, and I die, and then he thinks of me forever onwards as ‘that guy who I though was my best friend but maybe just wanted in my pants’? I don’t- I can’t, Ana. Don’t you see? _I can’t take that chance._ ”

 

You take a trembling breath. You can feel Ana watching you, waiting for your next words. “Maybe- I- After. I’ll tell him that I, I- have feelings for him. After the war ends, when we have the time to talk. But not now. _Definitely_ not now. Ana, please don’t tell him?”

 

You look at her beseechingly. She opens her mouth. Closes it, and shakes her head. “I told you, Jack. It’s your choice. If that’s what you think you want, then sure. I won’t tell a soul until you’re ready.” She stands up and stretches. “Well, it’s my turn to yell at the new recruits today, so I’ll be off, then."

 

She pauses before walking off, and turns to you with an unidentifiable expression on her face. "Hey Jack... I hope it goes well for you, alright? After the war ends, of course.”

 

You think about your decision a _lot_ after she leaves. Is it the right one?

 

When Gabe lands that night, you’re still thinking about it. And if your smile is a little off that day, and if you greet him with something less that your usual good cheer, he doesn’t mention it.

 

(you don’t know this, but Ana actually talked to Gabe before you

and essentially

he came to the _same conclusion as you_

how dense can two people get? you idiots deserve each other, she thinks

the end of this damn war cant come soon enough)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bless your shippers heart, ana. u tried. not your fault that they’re giant dweebs.
> 
>    
> once again, headcanon that ana and fareehas dad were super sweet together and he died very shortly before overwatch was formed. So yeah, she spent some time grieving for him while Overwatch was just getting started ;w;  
>  
> 
> Ive seen a lot of sexuality/romantic inclination headcanons for the overwatch crew, and i propose this. Demiromantic Jack Morrison, who took a girl or guy to the prom because thats what you do at the prom, who’s been kissed by people who liked him but who never kissed back, who honestly never gave a shit about sex or dating. And then here’s Gabe, who was a role model before he was a friend, and friend before anything else, and who jack honestly never though of in that way until ana brought it to his attention _what the fuck do i do with this emotion, ana, thanks a lot._
> 
>  
> 
> my fave chapter is coming up soon ;) not next, but soon
> 
>  
> 
> BTW have i ever told yall how much i love u? because i do, a lot. honestly, i never expected that my first big fic would be a series and also a chaptered fic and looking back, ive written way, way more than i though i ever would and im not even close to done. gosh, im just a noob fic writer, thanks for putting up with me.
> 
>  
> 
> jfc, im feeling sappy today. catch y’all later, darlings. <3


	7. the one where nobody is happy

You don’t believe it. Sure, everyone says that it’s over, that the Omniums have been shut down, but what if they aren’t? What if you wake up the next morning and whoops, false alarm everyone pick up your guns, we need you to go to Russia or whatever and fight fucking robots.

 

It’s been a month. You still don’t dare breathe, but you’ve been called into the UN Secretary-General’s office today. All of the leaders of Overwatch will be there. And what else could she be calling you all here for, but the official declaration of the end of the war?

 

Back when Ana had helped you realize that you- that you want to spend the rest of your life with Gabe, you spent a few weeks reconsidering whether or not you should tell him. And even though you spent countless nights worrying, eventually you had decided that you were right, that you’d wait for the fighting to stop before saying anything. Ana was right– either one of you could die tomorrow. But you’ve read enough romance novels to know that you telling him basically triples the chances of either of you dying in the next skirmish. You aren’t taking any chances.

 

But now it is over. This is it. You two have the rest of your lives to figure this out. And even if Reyes thinks that you’re creepy for loving him in this way for years and not telling him- and your heart ices over at the thought but you need to prepare for the worst case scenario, have a brave face ready to put on- you still want to be friends with him. And so you have to tell.

 

You’ve been able to keep it secret so far. It helps that now that you’ve got your own responsibilities, and you can honestly tell him that you’re busy and you really aren’t avoiding him, but you hate this, you hate keeping such a big secret from him. This is on a whole ‘nother scale from 'did you finish the milk and forget to buy more?’

 

A hard whack to the back of your head snaps you out of introspection. Surprised, you whirl around and nearly hit Ana in the face with your elbow. “Easy there, blondie!” she laughs.

 

“Sorry, Ana,” you say with a sheepish grin. “I didn’t see you there.”

 

“Hey, you calling me short? Just because you made it through some fancy-ass enhancement program doesn’t mean that I can’t put you on the floor.” She puffs up in mock affront, and you both chuckle. She matches your pace easily as you both make your way to the Secretariat’s office.

 

“Big day today, huh?” Her smile fades, just a bit. She isn’t just talking about the meeting, you know. After that first revelation in the gym, you spent about a week freaking out internally and not getting any sleep at all. When even your subordinates started shooting concerned looks at the bags under your eyes, you’d decided that you needed advice ASAP. Somebody you knew, trusted, and had experience with this kind of thing.

 

You weren’t going to tell Liao- sure, tell the head of intel your deepest, darkest secret, that’s a swell idea- and Reinhardt, charmer that he is, can’t keep a secret to save his life. Gabe was, by default, out of the question, and you’re not sure if Torbjörn has a love life or not. To be honest, you’re afraid to ask.

 

Which meant that you went back to Ana. She was still staunchly in favor of you telling Gabe as soon as possible, but she’d kept her promise and didn’t tell a soul.

 

So.

 

Now you’re here, at the end of the war. No more excuses. You’re going to see Gabe in person for the first time in months, and as soon as the conference is over you’re going to drag him into a secluded corner and tell him how you feel and hope to god he reciprocates even a fraction of what you feel for him.

 

“Yeah,” you say. “Big day today.”

 

* * *

 

 

Gabe’s back is turned when you see him. He’s making idle chatter with Liao right outside the office. When Liao calls out a greeting to you and Ana, he turns around and your heart’s in your throat because, god, look at him. It’s been about six months since you’ve been able to see him face to face because of a series of conflicting assignments, and there are somethings that a video chat just doesn’t convey. He looks tired, and there’s a raw red scar sphashed ontp his face that hasn’t healed yet but he’s still wearing the same old beanie and his mouth quirks up in that same old barely-there smile in greeting and he’s so quintessentially _Gabe_ that your chest hurts for a second. You missed him, and you smile in spite of your nerves.

 

“Gabe!” You call out. “It’s good to see you, man!”

 

“Aw, if it isn’t my favorite untoasted marshmallow.” He pulls you into a hug, and you hope that he can’t hear your heart beat faster. He smells like gunpowder and sweat and the faintest tinge of blood under that detergent he likes. The embrace lasts for only a few seconds before he pulls back, but you wish it would go on forever. You smile.

 

“Gabe, stop calling me that. I’m at the very least lightly toasted, dude.” You hesitate for half a heartbeat, and then blurt out. “Look, I need to talk to you after this meeting. Do you have the time?”

 

He blinks, surprised. He bites his lip and you think he glances over at Ana, but it's too quick to be sure. “I’ve… got something to tell you, too. After this meeting. We should find a place to sit down.”

 

You wrinkle your eyebrows in confusion. What would he have to tell you? Well, whatever. You’ll find out soon enough.

 

Reinhardt jogs up with his usual jovial greeting, with Torbjörn lagging a few steps behind. Everyone is present and accounted for. Gabe keys in the code for the office, and the entire crew trails him through the outer rooms to the inner office. Secretariat Gabrielle Adawe glances over at the sound of the opening door, unsurprised. She greets you all with a pleasantly businesslike smile.

 

You notice with a start that there are no press in the room. Over in the corner, you can see some kind of secretary or transcriber or something of that sort. Not very prominent, but the nondescript man by the couch definitely has that sort of look to him, and he's got some sort of laptop, old and clunky and opaque, sitting in his lap. Weird, but seriously, there should be some other people around if it’s a declaration of the end of war, right? It's just Adawe and one guy. But if this isn’t- What’s going on?

 

The secretariat clears her throat. “Good morning, officers. As you all know by now, the Omnic threat has been largely exterminated now, thanks to the valiant efforts of Overwatch. Only a few remaining pockets of resistance remain, now that the Omniums have all been shut down. But even though the conflit is essentially over, the United Nations has come to the conclusion that as an organization, Overwatch would be an extraordinarily useful tool in the ongoing fight against human rights violations. As such, the General Assembly has come to a near-unanimous agreement that the charter of the Overwatch strike team ought to be expanded into that of a global peacekeeping force.”

 

You blink, taken aback. There’s something coiled uneasily in your stomach, and you know that you were right those years ago, looking at an invitation to SEP on your cot. They’ll never, ever let you stop fighting.

 

The transcriber is typing furiously, the faint _tiktaktik_ the soundtrack to Adawe’s words. Adawe’s blandly businesslike smile does not falter, but neither does it reach her eyes.

 

“As part of this shift from a purely military organization to one with more of a focus on humanitarian missions, the United Nations have decided a change of leadership is in order. We are proud to announce that Jack Morrison will be promoted to Strike Commander.”

**what**

 

You can hear Liao’s sharp intake of breath. Ana is cursing under her breath in Arabic, and Reinhardt and Torbjörn are muttering to each other, confused. Gabe isn’t making a sound. Standing stock still, to your left and a little further forwards. He doesn’t move and you can hardly see his face and you don’t actually want to see his face, you think.

 

“It’s- I don’t know what to say, ma'am.”

 

That’s you talking, you register numbly. You aren’t stuttering or stammering, maybe because you’ve gone so far past surprise you’re in numb shock. It’s also a blatant lie, you know exactly what you want to say, you want to ask her if shes made some mistake, it was a slip of the tongue, surely she had meant to say Gabriel Reyes?

 

Who looks at your service record next to Gabe’s and goes _Yep. That guy. No, not the guy who orchestrated the military comeback against the Omnics, no, I want the guy who stands next to him and keeps the media off his ass. I want him to lead Overwatch._

 

Okay, you're not being totally fair to yourself, here. But. Still, the point stands. You’ve never lead anything on such a global scale before- Gabe has, and he does it well. What the hell? You’re about to argue with her, but Ana steps on your foot and presses a few discreet signs into your back. _Accept, don’t ask why_. What?

 

With gritted teeth, you smile. “Thank you for the opportunity, Secretariat. I shall do my best to make all of you proud.”

 

There’s the faint buzzing of a comms coming from behind you, and all of the founders except Liao turn, surprised. It’s the transcriber guy. He checks his message and frowns, closing his program window and standing up discreetly. He bows a short, sharp bow in apology and exits the room. You know, once you’ve taken a closer look, he really doesn’t seem to have the same feeling as a secretary at the United Nations. There’s a sharp feeling about him, and you realize that once he’s gone, the odd pressure of eyes on your back is gone. How strange.

 

As soon as the door closes behind him, Liao speaks up.

 

“Pardon my curiosity, Secretary General, but I was merely wondering why there would be a change in leadership so soon after this conflict. Wouldn’t it be prudent to wait until we are absolutely sure that the fighting is finished?”

 

She sits down with a sigh. Now that the man in the suit is out of the room, she drops the bland expression and rubs her face with a hand, tiredly.

 

“The thing is, we _know_ that there’s a lot of fighting still going on. And people are feeling uneasy because of it, which is escalating otherwise preventable conflicts. We’re in a Catch-22 situation here. We need the fighting to stop so that people calm down, but people won’t calm down until the fighting stops. Most of the United Nations believes that the solution to this is a sign that the world is heading towards peace. Thus, a complete handover of leadership.”

 

Reinhardt crosses his arms, radiating disapproval. “My lady, I mean no disrespect. But Gabriel is the one who has been putting forth a most valiant effort to bring and end to this fighting! Should he not be promoted to Strike Commander?”

 

She winces. “To be blunt, the UN wanted somebody… nonthreatening, I suppose. Nice and safe. And that’s what the general public knows Morrison for. Reyes, you’re a _war_ leader, and we want peace now.”

 

“If it’s any consolation,” she adds, “It’ll be a organization-wide change of power. I will be resigning later this year too.”

 

That’s not _reassuring_ , did she think that was reassuring? But she seems to take the empty silence as a sign of agreement, and smiles wanly. “Thank you for understanding, officers. I know that this must have been a shock, and I apologize for not warning you beforehand. Morrison, if you could prepare some sort of acceptance speech- around ten minutes long, max- in two weeks’ time, that would be fantastic. If you can’t, one will be provided for you. You’re dismissed.”

 

You all file out of the room. When the door is closed behind you, Torbjörn sums up your feelings. “I need a fuckin’ drink.”

 

“Can we contest this?” You ask, voice a lot higher pitched than you’d like to admit. “I- I can’t, this isn’t right. More _reassuring_? _Nonthreatening_? Fuck that, you know what she wasn’t saying!”

 

“No, she’s got a point.” Liao’s chewing on their thumbnail and staring off down the hallway absently.

 

“She’s got a point?!? What, did you-”

 

“Hey, shut the _fuck_ up, Jack!” they snap. You’re stunned into silence.

 

“I don’t like this any more than you do! But you _know_ that the fighting hasn’t stopped even though the omniums are shut down- hell, we’ve been fighting rioters and underworld organizations more than rogue Omnics for a few weeks now. Yeah, we can say that the war’s over. We can’t get people to believe it, though, not with the global economy in shambles and international trade a wreck. The public image of Gabriel Reyes is of a military genius, but you- Jack, you’re the one they remember directing medical aid and giving speeches and overseeing negotiations. God damn it, Gabriel, I get that you hate public speaking, but why the hell did you give every speech you possibly could to Jack? They’ve got reasonable arguments for their case. Everything’s skeevy as fuck, but even if we leak this to the press, present our side of the story, all we’re going to do is divide public opinion, and we can’t do that, don’t you see?”

 

They take a deep breath and set their jaw. “Overwatch didn’t recruit me to tell you pretty lies. Damn, _damn, **damn**_! I’m sorry, this sucks, but fuck. World can’t afford to see that Overwatch and the UN are in anything less than perfect harmony. If you choose to fight this battle, it won’t be with me.”

 

They stalk off. The rest of you stand there in mute shock. Liao’s not- they’re a pretty easygoing kid, and when they get angry, they get loud. You’ve never seen them so quietly savage before.

 

Ana taps Gabe on the shoulder. “I’m going after them, they’re probably just feeling upset they didn’t get wind of this earlier. Catch up with you later, Gabriel.”

 

Reinhardt shifts on his feet guiltily and mutters something about prior engagements before getting the hell out patting Gabe on the shoulder with a hand big enough to cover his whole shoulder. Torbjörn doesn’t even bother with an excuse, just walking off with Reinhardt. It’s just you and Gabe there, standing in front of the office door.

 

“Gabe, I-”

 

“Jack, do-”

 

You two both speak at the same time and collide like a car crash. You stumble, and it’s like the perfect synchronicity you’ve always had with Gabe isn't there anymore, and you don't know if you'll get it back. You can’t tell what he’s feeling right now, hell, you can’t tell what you’re feeling right now. “No, it’s okay, it’s okay. You go first, Gabe.”

 

“No, I-. It’s fine, Jack. I don’t. Uh. It’s alright, dude. I didn’t really have anything to say anyways. I’m just- gonna have to take a rain check on that thing I said I needed to talk to you about. Sorry, man.” Stops talking, unfomcortable, and you shake your head.

 

“It’s- yeah, later. That’s what I was going to say, too. We can talk some other time.” You say. “Besides, it wasn’t anything important.”

 

(you don’t know this but

the breath in between when adawe said your name and when you reacted

he felt like hed been stabbed in the heart

deepest, blackest **betrayal** from somebody he considered his other half

he may know that you didnt ask for this

and truly, he is proud of you after the shock wears off

but

a thought cannot be unthought, jack.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK SHIT I FORGOT TO PORT THIS ONE OVER FROM TUMBLES AAAH
> 
> lmao, i titled this one 'cockblocked by politics’ in google docs ugly laughter
> 
> shits getting real
> 
> you can bet that ana proceeded to get drunk off her ass w reinhardt after this because really? _really?_ you couldnt have possibly waited? we were so close and now everyone is going to have to watch them be soppy and married but also incredibly awkward and fucking shit i spent Actual Time on these morons and their emotional issues fuck the un
> 
> first stirrings of conspiracy here- UN predicted that the founders Would Not Be Happy with this decision, so they sent somebody to keep an eye on everything, make sure that adawe didnt deviate from the script. ana n liao figured out there was something suspicious about him, so they covered for jack and made sure he didnt say anything too hastily in front of that guy.
> 
> heres a happy headcanon, tho: that hug when gabe first sees jack? he absolutely went “one mississippi, two- okay, thats good” in his head while doing it. yeah, he calculated an optimal hugging time so that he doesn't hug his bff for either too long or too short a time. fuckin dweeb
> 
> since canon liao does not exist yet, i am going with my headcanon liao, who’s short, nonbinary and an absolute memer lil shit. only two settings- business or AYYY LMAO. TBH, this slice right here isnt a very accurate depiction of either of those sides- they’re offkilter rn cuz they’re the info dude and they didn’t hear jack shit about this decision. Very pissed at themself right now. They’re pretty close to Ana n Gabe, still friends with the others but not as much, you feel me? mmm, i dont have a very clear image of them but. babyfaced asian kid with hair in a ponytail is what i got right now.
> 
> as a side note, updates are going to b slowing down a fair amount. not only am i starting college again soon, i have like three other writing projects im working on, yall.XD nothings been abandoned, though. dontchu worry. well, toodles!


End file.
